


The Lark Becomes the Hawk

by Sitdowndrinktea



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, I was sorely tempted to call this "Sister Simplice Saves the Day", In retrospect I'm glad I didn't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sitdowndrinktea/pseuds/Sitdowndrinktea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosette is saved from the Thénardiers and placed in the care of a different guardian. Her path diverges, but is no less eventful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lark Becomes the Hawk

In the many worlds ruled by Providence, there is one where a Lark, devoid of a voice, was set free from her unfair servitude and lived a life that was fulfilling and just. Before she could be made cynical and weary of the world, she was blessed with the unconditional love of a father. And what a blessing it is, for an unloved child to be provided a caretaker, to be taken under the guardianship of someone willing themselves to be depended on. 

This particular world ruled by Providence was also subject to many obstacles that nearly rendered this blessed union between adopted child and father at an impasse. There included false identities, a brief incarceration, and the obstinate pursuit by the Law, though not necessarily in those orders. Most unfortunate of all in these events was the unabated suffering of a mother separated from her child, and her subsequent death. Just as it is a blessing for an unloved child to finally be loved, it is a travesty for a despondent parent to never be reunited with their child. 

It is with great remorse that this world to be presented does not have a proper resolution for the mother in this story. Be rest assured, however, that Providence governs a world that does. It’s just not in this one. 

It is with some trepidation that this world also had the child be given to a caretaker, but perhaps to one not terribly well-suited for the task. To say that the child remained in abusive hands is absurd, because she was turned over to someone who, although an authoritarian in practice, was not a monster. One could even say she was given much stability, more than what was given to her at The Sargent of Waterloo. Some would say stability is a preferable substitute for love. 

How she was put under another man’s care is a result of a slight change in detail, not a rip, like a cloth catching on a jagged edge, more like a hole in a shawl that had not been knit tightly enough. In this world, Fantine was given a few minutes more before dying. She could, for a few brief moments, make her appeal. The reveal of Monsieur Madeleine as the former convict Jean Valjean did not render her incapable of living, though the shock of it did bring her closer to death. 

In this world, after she fixed her gaze on Valjean, then Javert, and finally Sister Simplice, she opened her mouth to speak, and instead of letting out a guttural sound and falling backwards into oblivion, clasped her hands before her and cried:

“My child is not returned to me! She continues to live with the Thenardiers; she continues to suffer from my debts! I know of this; I have come to believe they never intended for her to be returned to me, I have dreamed of her mistreatment. They are cons, they are thieves, and their pity on me was false.”

Sister Simplice and Valjean looked upon Fantine with a combination of pity and despair, a frightful mix of emotion that only served to spurn Fantine further in her appeal. Javert, however, remained unmoved in his expression. He remained patient, but always unkind, and held steadfastly onto Valjean’s collar as he did when he first entered. She recounted spiteful dreams and cited whole passages from her letters that gave away the Thenardier’s ulterior motives to remove Fantine from any monetary grounds that would support her and her daughter. Her last ounce of strength was used with little frivolity. Upon the end of her speech, her case was won.

However, her final proclamation, “Remove her from them!” was also the last words she spoke. By this time, she laid her head back on the pillows, her nightcap askew, and her head resting on her breast. She would only know through looking down on creation that her Cosette would be safe. 

A great silence would follow, but in this world, it was Sister Simplice to have broken the silence. Her face was tearless, but in mourning, and it was Sister Simplice to continue Fantine’s appeal. 

“It would be good for this child to be put in good hands, finally. To at least be put in better care,” she said not lifting her eyes from Fantine’s body. It was not meant to be too much of a demand, but in that most fragile of moments, it was as if she had the power of Heaven—the power to will a different path entirely. With God’s guidance, she could have had entire mountains move with the simplest of phrases and the barest minimum of words, without even the use of the word ‘please.’ 

Valjean, of course, had almost made it his sole ambition to bring back Cosette, though now his promise had been altered, and would likely be fulfilled by his apprehender. Javert was willing to listen this time; Sister Simplice being a nun, belonging to ecclesiastical authority, provided enough for a different outcome for all involved in this particular world. Had it only been Fantine, almost nothing and no one else would be persuasive. It was already too much for Javert to know that the town was being run by a false bureaucrat and that a whore had been treated as if she had come from better means. 

“I will go and retrieve this child, then,” Javert resolved. “And if the caretakers are doing wrong, then they will be handled accordingly.”

Valjean hung his head in silence. His collar was still held from him, so much so he looked to be something akin to a helpless kitten held aloft by a tiger. His promise to Fantine would not be kept, though his promise to the Bishop of Digne would still remain in effect.

“And I will return to prison,” he added matter-of-factly. 

Javert would allow himself a small smile instead of a spoken agreement. Then, collar still in hand, he lead Valjean outside. 

After placing Valjean in the city prison, it occurred to Javert that procuring the child should require the least amount of enforcement. It wouldn’t do to make way out of Montreuil-sur-mer with a squad of men only to find out the child had been thrown to the elements and forced to make her home under the wide canopy of stars. Such an action would have been akin to sending a pack of trained hounds to capture a freshly born fox—resources put to waste. In any case, a search would have to be made. Valjean explained while placed in cuffs, his head seemingly so far past his shoulders that from behind he seemed to be headless or exceedingly deformed, that Fantine’s debts to the Thenardiers had been more than paid. There wouldn’t be much punishment, simply a correctional matter, unless other illegalities were in place. 

There was also the matter of Javert presiding over the retrieval. It didn’t make much sense for him to make a day’s trip to Montfermeil when there would be much business to attend to at Montreuil-sur-mer, considering its upstanding mayor had just been deposed. If not dealt with soon, the town would soon be hovel of chaos without a replacement mayor. Javert, though, felt the town chaotic enough having been presided over by a convict. Throwing Valjean in prison was less of a burden on the town than had he continued his occupation. It was a temporary chaos that Javert could settle for, if not be outright proud of, considering it had been run by somebody who had no consideration for the Law. 

A decision was made as soon as Valjean was placed in his cell and the iron door closed shut—a most satisfying sound to those who would be the keepers of the peace. Three men would make their way out of town, retrieve the child, and come back to make her a ward. The court would appoint her a guardian, and everyone’s debts would be settled. 

Everything was in place, and justice had been duly served. Javert allowed himself to be satisfied and took a pinch of snuff. He planned on taking another pinch when Valjean was transferred to Toulon. In the meantime, there would be much time for paperwork and little time for celebration. Both men kept to their thoughts: one in triumph, one in resignation, and both with clear consciences. 

When it came time to retire for the evening, Javert felt a strange desire to walk past the prison cells and look upon each detainee as if they were all a part of some miserable menagerie. He refrained, however, since the only reason he wanted to do so was to exchange words with the former M. Madeleine, make him feel as he did when he came to his office to apologize and offer his resignation. There would be time for that tomorrow, perhaps when the child was brought in, so she could find out her potential savior had been no better than those she was being kept with. 

Instead, Javert frowned his victory, and left for home and to settle in for the night. He would not pay any attention to Valjean sitting in his jail cell, quietly smiling his own victory, knowing that his promise to the Bishop was still being kept.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Les Mis kink meme. Slightly edited, and will be continued on this site.


End file.
